exercise.
Molly stood at her kitchen window, gazing out through the gauzy curtains she’d brought over from her former apartment, watching Devin do laps in the pool. He was big and looked very strong with not an ounce of fat on him. She’d been counting and was up to twenty. Finally, he eased out and brushed his wet hair back with both hands as water dripped from the dark curls on his chest and legs. He turned to straighten a lounge chair while Molly admired the smooth skin of his back, the muscles rippling as he moved. He sat down in the chair and leaned back, closing his eyes and letting the hot sun dry him.
Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers over those broad shoulders, to examine that deep cleft in his chin. It had been so long since she’d touched a man, or allowed one to touch her. That brief moment when he’d first introduced her to his dog, the nearness of his big body close to hers, the way his hand had lingered on hers, had awakened a dormant need. She would deny it if asked, often denied it even to herself, yet there were times like now that she longed for that strong male touch that was like no other. A man who could make her want and need and ache.
Like she was aching now.
Four years she’d been married to Lee Summers, and there had been some good times at the beginning. He’d been very attractive, too, and very aware of it. Yet she’d learned the hard way that even strong, attractive men have their weaknesses. Lee’s had killed any feelings she’d had for him.
Gazing now at Devin Gray, she could easily see his attraction, his strengths. And she couldn’t help wondering what his weaknesses were.
Chapter Three
Monday morning, with one eye on the clock, Molly grabbed a box of cereal and her canvas bag before heading out the door. Settling behind the wheel, she inserted the key and turned it. A few chugging sounds, then nothing.
“Ah, c’mon, Bessie,” she coaxed. “I can’t be late today after Hank gave me the whole weekend off.” Usually she had to work either Saturday or Sunday. More gently, she tried again, knowing that sometimes when the car hadn’t been driven in a couple of days, old Bess took her sweet time. However, not even a gasp on the second try. The menacing red light on the dash flashed on.
“Damn!” she muttered under her breath before getting out and propping up the hood. Leaning under, Molly made a quick assessment and moaned out loud. “Not today!”
“Having a problem?” asked a deep, masculine voice at her elbow.
Recognizing the voice’s owner, Molly didn’t even look up. “You could say that.”
“I take it she won’t start. Want me to take a look?” Devin offered. Although she looked cute in her neat white blouse and black slacks, trying not to get dirty as she stared into the innards of the Honda, he could all but see steam rising from her in frustration.
“I know what’s wrong,” Molly muttered in exasperation.
“You do?” Most women he’d run across knew zip about car engines. “What is it then?”
“The alternator.” Molly removed her blond head from beneath the hood. “I knew it was on its last legs, but I’d hoped it would hold out another few paydays.” There went her carefully planned budget. Ken at the auto repair service had warned her, but she’d stubbornly held out.
Not convinced she knew an alternator from a radiator, Devin persisted. “Mind if I try anyhow?”
“Suit yourself,” Molly said, wondering whom she could call to beg a ride from.
Devin got behind the wheel and gave the key a couple of useless tries, then noticed the red warning light. He got back out. “Could be your starter, or maybe a broken belt. But more likely your alternator.”
“Yes, I know.”
Puzzled, he studied her. “How do you know so much about cars? Your dad teach you? Maybe a boyfriend?”
Molly shot him a withering glance. “I took a night course in auto mechanics. Much more reliable.” She checked her watch. “Of all days…”
“Listen, it’ll probably have to be towed in to be fixed. That may take awhile. I can give you a ride to work, if you don’t mind riding double on a Harley.” Hands on his hips, he stood watching her. Daring her.
He thought he had her, that she’d sooner walk than ride a motorcycle, Molly thought. He was wrong. She smiled at him. “Thanks. I’d love to.” She grabbed her bag and box of cereal before following him to his bike.
“What’s with the cereal?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Breakfast.” To demonstrate, she stuck her hand in, came out with a fistful of Cheerios which she proceeded to eat. “Fast, efficient and good for you.”
“Uh-huh.” He bent to undo his lock. “Ever ridden one of these?”
Her gaze swept over the huge black-and-chrome machine, but her expression didn’t change. “Not recently. Once, in college, I rode double on a Kawasaki.” She’d done it on a dare and found it fun after her initial fright. She’d done a lot of dumb things in college.
“Well, then, you’re an old hand.” Devin saw the hesitation in her eyes and wondered if she’d woven a story to impress him. One thing he felt was true about Molly Shipman even on short acquaintance was that her independent streak wouldn’t allow her to back down from a challenge.
“Hold on a minute.” Quickly, he ran up to his apartment and was back in short order carrying a white helmet. “You need to put this on.”
“You don’t wear one,” she commented. It was only a couple of miles to the café and that stupid thing would really mess up her hair.
“You’re right and I should. If you want to ride with me, however, you’ll put this on.” It was one thing to risk his own neck and quite another to endanger someone else’s. He didn’t wait for any more arguments but unfastened the strap and slipped the helmet over her head.
The backs of his fingers touched the silk of her hair as he tucked in loose strands. Yes, just as soft as he’d imagined. While she stood perfectly still, he fastened the chin strap in place. Her eyes stayed on his face, making him wonder what she was thinking. He took her bag and cereal box, placing them in the leather tote attached to the back of his bike. “There, all set.”
Devin shoved up the kickstand and mounted, scooting forward on the generous seat. “Okay, climb on behind me.”
Molly hesitated for just a moment, wondering if she’d made a mistake accepting this ride. Probably Trisha could have come over for her by now and they’d be on their way. Taking Devin up on his offer meant she owed him now, and she hated that feeling. However, it was a little late for second thoughts.
Pulling up her pantlegs ever so slightly, she swung a leg over and behind him. The slope of the seat had her scooting right up against his hard body. She felt her pulse take a wild leap as she stared at the back of his head. “Now what?”
Devin pointed out the metal footrests on each side and bent to guide one shoe in place to demonstrate. “Now put your arms around my waist and hang on.”
The
